


Date Night

by Pollydoodles



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 14:43:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5970760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollydoodles/pseuds/Pollydoodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“A date?”</p><p>“You don’t have to sound quite so amazed, Darce.” Bucky said, grinning and reaching around her for the sugar. “Once upon a time I was quite in demand, you know.”</p><p>“Well, yeah, I mean – I know-“<br/>“But?”<br/>“I didn’t even say but-“<br/>“It was implied.” </p><p>Darcy rolled her eyes at him but stayed mute. </p><p>“Anyway, the point is, do I pass?” </p><p>She gave him an appraising look, dragging her eyes from head to toe slowly, and he rotated for her. Newly shined shoes, well-fitting dark suit, white shirt that hugged across his muscled chest without quite straining the buttons, dark tie to finish. She swallowed hard before meeting his earnest blue eyes with her own. </p><p>“Yeah, you’ll do.”</p><p>---#wintershock<br/>---#outside of the Pizza-Verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	Date Night

“A date?”

“You don’t have to sound quite so amazed, Darce.” Bucky said, grinning and reaching around her for the sugar. “Once upon a time I was quite in demand, you know.”

“Well, yeah, I mean – I know-“  
“But?”  
“I didn’t even say but-“  
“It was implied.” 

Darcy rolled her eyes at him but stayed mute. 

“Anyway, the point is, do I pass?” 

She gave him an appraising look, dragging her eyes from head to toe slowly, and he rotated for her. Newly shined shoes, well-fitting dark suit, white shirt that hugged across his muscled chest without quite straining the buttons, dark tie to finish. She swallowed hard before meeting his earnest blue eyes with her own. 

“Yeah, you’ll do.”

He shifted from one foot to the other. “Sure?”

“Mmmhmm.” She answered, turning her back on him so he couldn’t see her stabbing the spoon aggressively into the ice cream tub. “S’fine.”

“S’fine.” She found herself repeating half an hour later. 

Jane regarded her assistant, who had already managed a whole pint of ice cream to herself and was preparing to begin a second. She arched an eyebrow, which did not go unnoticed by Darcy. 

“What?” She said, mumbling slightly around a heaped spoonful of mint choc chip. 

“You know what.”

“I absolutely do not.” Darcy replied defiantly. 

Jane sighed. 

 

He presumed that stabbing the girl through the hand with a fork would probably be against what Steve called “appropriate societal integration”, and for that reason, he refrained. However, in his mind, he’d murdered her seven ways from Sunday since they’d walked through the door of the restaurant. Bucky tried not to roll his eyes, but couldn’t be sure that he’d managed it or not. She was pretty – that he could not deny – but by gods she was boring. He didn’t even know what a Kardashian was, but he was certain he didn’t care to find out more. 

Is it okay to ask the girl her name an hour and a half into the date? Probably not. 

He couldn’t help but think of Darcy, who’d have commented on the waiter’s fake French accent as soon as they were seated. Who’d’ve had him practically falling off his seat with her impressions of him, who would have caught his hand across the table and gestured with her eyes at the table next to them whose occupants appeared to be enjoying an even worse date than he was currently. Who would have had him longing to kiss her before the starter even made it to the table.

Wait.   
Wait-  
Kiss Darcy?  
Huh. 

Bucky toyed around with that one in his mind as he pulled apart a bread roll. Across the table, his date continued to talk. She didn’t seem to need any input from him to keep going. Or breath, apparently, judging by the lack of pause in her conversation. Bucky forced himself back into the room and focused on her words, his brow knitting as he tried valiantly to work out what she was talking about. 

Something about a Saint West? It didn’t ring any bells with him, but then it had been a long time since he’d set foot anywhere near a church. He thought to himself ruefully that even the Catholic Church’s fairly open stance on hail Marys and penance probably wouldn’t stretch as far as what he could whisper through the gridded confession box window of a Sunday morning. He’d be less likely to be greeted with rosary beads than an armed SWAT team upon finishing.

He hadn’t pegged her for the religious type, not wearing a fire-engine red dress that clung in places girls in the ‘30s hadn’t known existed and, even if they’d had, wouldn’t have been flaunting like that in public. The neckline veered dangerously low, and even lower as she leaned across the table every so often. He wondered idly what Darcy might look like in something like that, something that hugged and revealed and-

His internal policeman – the one that sounded an awful lot like Steve ¬¬– jabbed at his conscience with an accusing finger. She might be the dullest girl you’ve met in 70 years, Buck, but it ain’t right to be thinking of other girls whilst you’re out to dinner with her. He sighed. Internal Steve was right, as usual. 

He stood abruptly, throwing down the remains of the bread roll, chair scraping back as he pushed it away from the table. He was halfway to the door of the restaurant when Internal Steve stuck again – no words this time, just a sudden mental image of Steve’s face – and he stopped, also realising that every eye in the room was trained on his retreating back. Ah yeah, should probably- yeah. Not just leave without- Yeah. 

Spinning on his heel, he marched back to the table where his date was, amazingly, sitting speechless. He pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and thumbed through the bills, carefully laying down what he assumed was enough on her plate. She gaped at him as he did so, and he nodded briefly at her, turning away. Suddenly another thought struck him and he turned back, re-opening the wallet and laying another couple of bills in front of her. 

“Maybe, uh, you could get, I dunno, some rosary beads or somethin’?” He said, gesturing towards her with his wallet as he closed it again. “Or is there some Church of the Saint West you wanna donate to?” She stared at him incomprehensively and didn’t answer. He shrugged. “I just thought- you seem pretty dedicated to it- ah, whatever you wanna do with it.” 

Feeling somewhat more confident that Steve couldn’t pick apart his actions, at least from a moral standpoint, he left. 

 

Darcy sat slumped on the couch in the common room, flicking through channels at a rate of which an international ping pong player would be jealous. She let out a quiet, but uncomfortably ice-cream flavoured and unladylike, burp to herself, and considered that such behaviour might possibly be a contributing factor to being sat alone on a Saturday night. 

Lucky, Barton’s dog, was stretched out at her feet and she buried her bare toes into the long fur on his flank. The yellow lab let out a pleased huff as she massaged into his side, and stretched out further, tail thumping a slow but steady rhythm against the hardwood floor. He’d become a bit of a fixture in the tower, between Barton needing him looked after whilst on missions – and, Darcy suspected strongly, quite a few times between missions, as well – and Bucky becoming more responsive from the interaction. 

Darcy would have had him on the sofa with her, but the others had, to a one, vetoed that. Even with Lucky’s soulful brown eyes staring up at them and his eager tail wagging side to side, they’d made a rule. Pepper had a sixth sense for dog hair, despite having an army of cleaning staff and never having to lift a finger herself, and Darcy knew it wasn’t worth the hassle. She also knew however that, of a night, that the dog would disappear into Bucky’s room and sleep stretched out on the bed alongside him, Bucky’s flesh had tangled into golden fur. 

Not that she’d been in Bucky’s room, but she’d bumped into him early one morning leaving it, all mussed hair, pyjama bottoms and Lucky at his heels. He’d given her a shy smile, blue eyes glinting with mischief and brought one finger to his lips, glancing down at the dog as he did so. 

Privately Darcy thought Bucky was missing a trick if he thought Pepper wasn’t fully aware of it, but she guessed that the redhead understood not only the importance of having a solid, joyful weight that shoved its wet nose into a face that might possibly awake some nights in sweat and shakes, but also the importance of Bucky having a happy secret to himself. 

She was still channel hopping when Bucky entered the room, and she definitely did not look at him discarding his suit jacket over the back of a chair, nor did she notice him loosening his tie and opening his shirt collar to expose the barest amount of muscled chest. 

She couldn’t ignore him throwing himself into the sofa beside her, and nor could Lucky who scrambled to his feet and shoved his face enthusiastically into Bucky’s crotch. The man fussed him, laughing as he did so. Eventually, he pushed the dog away and leaned back into the couch, one arm slung comfortably behind Darcy. 

“Hey, hot shot.” He said softly. 

“Hey.” She answered, not looking away from the TV. “How goes the date?” Her voice twisted slightly on the last word, but she didn’t think he’d notice. 

“Well.” He paused, and wrinkled his nose before answering. Darcy subconsciously held her breath. “I’ve probably had more fun being forcibly interrogated by the KGB, but other than that I guess it was okay.”

She was still turned away from him, so he couldn’t see the sharp twist of a smile that took her pretty lips, just for an instant. Darcy shut that right down though, as soon as possible. Just because she was hell for leather over him didn’t mean there was anything heading back down the track her way. 

He laughed, curling the fingers on his metal hand absent-mindedly and just grazing the bare skin of her shoulder left exposed by her tank top as they moved. She fought back a shiver of pleasure and closed her eyes, counting to ten.

“Oh is that so?” She said, once finished. Drawing her legs up to her chin and settling back into the sofa – the sofa, not into Bucky’s arm. That’s right, self, you heard me – Darcy hugged her arms around her knees and looked at Bucky over her shoulder. “Remind me not to let Steve set me up on dates then.” 

Bucky’s stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought of Darcy going on dates, Steve-approved or not, and reflexively drew Darcy into his side. She gave him a surprised look as her shoulder hit his chest, but didn’t move away. He dropped his head towards hers and caught her chin with his fingertip. 

Darcy’s heart hammered against her ribcage and she swallowed painfully, praying to the nearest passing deity that Bucky’s hyper-sensitive senses wouldn’t pick that up. His blue eyes were serious, his fingertip still warm on her chin as he directed her gently closer to him. To his face. To his lips. Say something. No, wait, don’t say anything. What? Her mind raced frantically then shut down completely. Darcy squeezed her eyes tight shut in the hopes that it would re-start her brain.

Bucky saw her eyes close and took his chance.   
She’d been hoping for a re-boot but the instant his lips covered hers, her nervous system short-circuited. Bucky’s hand slipped from her chin to tangle in her hair, and she subconsciously shifted closer to him. She could feel him smile into her lips as she moved, and suddenly there was tongue and warmth and she could taste the coffee he must have drunk on the way home. 

Bucky dropped his other arm from the back of the sofa down to her waist, and drew her closer still, until she was pressed up against him, chest to chest and practically sat in his lap. He kissed her for the moment that evening he’d realised that he was out with the wrong girl, he kissed her for the moments when she’d silently made him coffee without being asked, he kissed her for persevering with him as he struggled to understand modern slang. 

And he kissed her because he’d realised that he couldn’t do without her.


End file.
